


Would you piss for me?

by Sonofabicc



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Coldplay, Dom!Moriarty, Humiliation, M/M, Omorashi, Piss, Sheriarty is real, i am so sorry Arthur Conan Doyle, johns life is threatened, sherlock really needs to piss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 17:52:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13440090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonofabicc/pseuds/Sonofabicc
Summary: Sherlock needs to piss. Moriarty is bored. This deadly combination gets up to some randy business and Sherlock doesn't make it to the bathroom......I am sorry Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, please forgive me.





	Would you piss for me?

Piss.  
Sherlock was in desperate need to piss.  
He felt it inside of him like an ocean threatening to spill, and so he tapped his foot, distracting himself with thoughts of cases. Funny how the thoughts of murders calmed him down. The bathroom was a mere stroll away but Sherlock had to beat his previous record. He had to resist the urge. And he had been doing just fine (coming out of his cage) until John entered the room. He looked tired, a sweater thrown haphazardly over his head, a steaming cup of tea in one hand. Sherlock cursed under his breath.  
Not today.  
"John, I-" Sherlock nearly moaned, but the small boi cut him off.  
"No need, Sherlock. I was just telling you that I have an appointment, so I'll be out for a bit." John said.  
Sherlock must have looked genuinely surprised, because John quirked an eyebrow, looking suspicious.  
"That's all right with you?" He asked, and Sherlock nodded.  
"Well then, guess I better get going." He said, and Sherlock watched him as he left the apartment.   
Now Sherlock was alone, his full bladder making his stomach ache. Sherlock tilted his head back and let out a sigh, closing his eyes.  
"Did you miss me?" The words drifted from behind Sherlock, said in an orgasmic Irish accent dripping with seduction.  
Sherlocks eyes shot open, and he panted, vision whirling as he looked about the room.   
There was nobody there. But there was something on the table. It was a shiny red apple with a bite taken out of it and a knife stuck through it.  
"Surprise."  
Sherlock felt a hand on his thigh and he had to resist the urge to let it all out in one glorious golden stream. He let out a stifled whimper before he could help it and the hand on his thigh drummed slowly against it, teasingly.   
"Sherlock, Sherlock. Don't want to make a mess, do you?" Jim Moriarty purred from behind. Sherlock closed his eyes slowly counting to ten. He really wished that John hadn't left the apartment. He really wished that he was alone and he could piss his pants in peace. Hell, he even wished he had just gone to the bathroom like a normal person. But no, he had to complete his experiment. Now looking, back it seemed more like a kink. When he opened his eyes, the hand was no longer on his thigh, and he let out a sigh of relief. Now Sherlock was able to sit up straight, and he leaned forward, picking up the apple from the table. Even that slight movement put a strain on his nearly bursting bladder and he bit his lip desperately. Sherlock turned the apple in his hands, and found that there was something carved into it.  
I O U  
Before he could process what that meant, Moriarty was back, looking more like the spider king than ever in his impeccable suit. This time, he brought a glass filled with ice. Sherlock found this peculiar, and he felt the need to question it. Oh, how naive he was.   
"Why did you steal my entire ice tray, Jim? And more importantly, why are you in my home?" Sherlock asked, craning his head to look at the other boi.   
"Just stopping by. I've found that enemies are often better company than friends. And the ice? Oh, you'll see why I needed it. You'll just have to be patient." Moriarty crooned.  
"Okay. Well, if you don't mind me I have to visit the loo." Sherlock said, pulling his robe tighter to himself as he stood up abruptly.  
Moriarty tsked, wagging one finger.  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Wouldn't want anything to happen to dear old John, would you?" His black eyes glittered like the abyss as he said this. Sherlock shivered and gulped, sitting down once more. His leg was shaking, and he felt ready to burst.   
"Lovely. Now here's where the ice comes in, Sherlock. If you want John to live, you must do something for me." Moriarty said.  
"And what is that?" Sherlock asked, leg bouncing up and down.  
"Would you....piss for me?" Moriarty purred.  
Sherlock turned fifty shades of red.  
"Moriarty, this is ridiculous I-" he began, but Moriarty shut him up by bringing his phone inches away from Sherlocks face. John was on the screen, and a gun was pointed at his head. A tear fell from his eye as he looked into the camera.  
"Please, Sherlock." He begged.  
Sherlock swatted the phone away, muttering as he shook his head.  
"Fine. I'll do it. I'll piss for you if that's what you please." He said.   
"Yes. That's more like it. If you need some encouragement, have a cube." Moriarty's drawl was hypnotizing.   
Sherlock took the glass from Moriarty and popped two ice cubes into his mouth. At the icy cold sensation, his leg jerked, and he felt himself lose control. His robe became damp as a trickle of piss escaped, trailing down one leg.  
Moriartys eyes gleamed.  
"Yes, Sherlock."   
Sherlock felt himself slip at the sound of Moriarty's voice. Moriarty had the audacity to slither over once more, placing that blasted hand on his inner thigh. Moriarty hummed as he drummed his fingers against Sherlock's thigh, so dangerously close, so....  
Sherlock let out a moan as his full bladder emptied, the stream of piss wetting his bedclothes and the floor, yet Jim didn't seem to mind. Instead, he smiled as the warmth flooded his skin.   
"Yes. Piss for me Sherlock. I know that's not all." Moriarty commanded. He reached into his glass and took out a palmful of ice. He put the ice between his fingers and ran them up and down Sherlocks thigh.   
Sherlock made the sounds of an anime girl in a hentai, wetting the seat of his pants further. He pissed for Moriarty until there was nothing left to give.  
"John would be so proud." Jim sang into Sherlocks ear, biting the lobe playfully as he walked to the table, twirling the apple in one hand. He placed the knife between his teeth, winking at Sherlock.   
"Let's do this again sometime." Moriarty said, and he was gone.  
Sherlock sat in a puddle of his own piss, panting. John walked into the apartment, looking very confused.  
"Sherlock, the gun was empty so you didn't have to- whoa, what happened to you?" He asked, eyes wide as they traveled downwards.  
"Don't ask, John. Just please...get me a towel." Sherlock half-begged, head hung in shame.  
John chuckled a little nervously. "I understand, accidents happen." He said before going into the kitchen.   
Sherlock sat and pondered for a moment, realizing that he didn't have to piss for Moriarty all this time. But his mind was the greatest puzzle of all, the unsolved case because a small part of him was glad to have done it. And he would even do it again.


End file.
